


Visions Remain

by liseraptorknight



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Books of Sorrow, Hive Guardian - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Thanatonautics, The Fundament, Unconventional Guardians, Visions, because that's what Thanatonautics is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liseraptorknight/pseuds/liseraptorknight
Summary: A Krill Thanatonaut attempts to use her people's past to see their future.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Visions Remain

The thanatonautic visions remains constant- a floating continent suspended in a ray of light in the eye of the storm. She’s staring down into it, watching it heave and buckle. The cables on the outermost islands strain as she turns her ship in for the approach- one large chunk gives immediately and the sea of clouds beneath swallows it. The banners on the higher towers snap in the crosswinds.

The city lies silent. Empty, quiet street after empty quiet street turning into vacant marketplaces and deserted squares. Narrow dark windows staring down at the swirls inlaid into the pavement, shutters banging in the persistent wind. Corners filled with dust and plant debris. Bright lanterns on a broken string lying across a rooftop, scraping against the tile like nails on a chalkboard. Market stalls sagging in on themselves, awning more holes than fabric, goods moldered away or covered in the thick gray dust that clung to everything.

She keeps her gun at the ready, even if it is nothing more than a figment of her imagination and completely ineffective against foes of the metaphysical bent. She peers through the open doors into the darkness, nothing but more dust and furniture left as though the inhabitants only stood up and walked out. The continent shudders. Far off in the distance she hears cables snap and the groan of a section of the city falling. She starts running- towards the palace.

The palace is a long, tall structure- like the halls of the Dreadnought, but once having been airy and colorful. She walks down a hallway. On her left side are rows of high, filthy glass windows casting sickly green light onto the faded carpet and the ragged banners cross-crossing the ceiling. On her right, murals depicting the ruling dynasty slough off the wall. What little remains of them are indecipherable smears of paint that change when she looks away. Once, a figure holding a crown above his head- then in a blink, a figure holding a white worm- then a figure entwined with a serpent.

At the top of the hall, she finds the library. Most of the shelving collapsed and the books lie in damp piles squelching underfoot as she picks her way to the orrery in the center. She knows what she’ll find and it still makes her heart jump up into her throat.

A figure sits slumped over in a chair before the orrery, a map of the gas giant and her moons. The moons lined up in a long row, casting sharp narrow shadows on the scattered papers. Pages upon pages of scribbled notes- calculations, prayers, missives to the neighboring kingdoms, pleas to the distant admiralty and their great god who appears in the form of a moon. 

The figure almost looks like her, if not for the impressive crest and being easily twice her size though withered and dead. She has to stand on her toes to see the top of the desk, and there on a plate before him- a living white worm with three horribly familiar green eyes staring right into hers.

_ Out of time.  _ It gloats into her mind.  _ Too late. The ones who knelt are mine- and those that refused are dead. Why come you here? You can do nothing to change the course of the past- nor in your feeble state can you change the course of the future. Behold, the final shape is coming and it is shaped like a- _

She pulls the trigger by instinct and the worm bursts into a dark green puddle of ooze, laughing in her mind. The floor gives way under her feet and she’s plummeting into the storm-

Petrichor pulls her back to life with a flurry of light. “Ten seconds,” they chirp. “Did anything change?”

She shakes her head, picks up her sidearm, takes a deep breath and prepares for the next Sisyphean dive.


End file.
